


The Safest Place In New York

by wkemeup



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, F/M, Mugging, bucky is a certified hero, men are the wooooooorst, saved by a stranger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wkemeup/pseuds/wkemeup
Summary: A stranger comes to your rescue when you find yourself held at knifepoint, alone in an alleyway, by a man demanding your money
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 125





	The Safest Place In New York

It was colder than it should be for the beginning of Spring. Shoulders were hunched high and curled up hands balled into fists tucked into the pockets of your dress as you made your way down the near empty street. A gust of wind swept by and you shivered. Eyes focused ahead on the next pocket of illuminated sidewalk, you nervously picked up your pace between storefronts where the darkness took over. 

You had avoided going out for drinks after your shift at work for nearly four months before you begrudgingly gave in. It was further away from your apartment than you would have liked and the subway had stopped running an hour ago. Your phone was long forgotten at your bedside table this morning so Lyft wasn’t an option. Tight on cash, you didn’t even consider a cab.

So here you were. Walking alone at three in the morning, keeping your attention on the sidewalk, moving just a little bit faster every time you crossed paths with a stranger. 

A shoulder bumped yours and you let out a gasp, hand reaching for your chest to steady your heartbeat.

“Sorry, miss,” the man said quickly, hand jetting out to steady you as you wavered on your heels. You froze at the contact and he pulled away as if he had burned you. He pressed his lips into a thin line, pale blue eyes darting to the ground as he tucked his hand back to his pocket.

“Well, have a good night,” the stranger mumbled awkwardly.

With that, he turned and continued in the direction he was heading. You stood still as you watched him disappear around a corner, wide shoulders and a baseball cap covering his long hair. Heart still beating wildly, you cursed under your breath, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you glanced back over your shoulder.

The street was empty far as you could see. Only a few more blocks and you’d be home.

A steady exhale of relief was short lived before a hand snaked around your mouth, another around your waist, pressing down so hard you could barely breath.

The taste of leather was bitter in your mouth as you tried to bite on the hand that muzzled you, a strangled scream only further muffled by the glove. Your hands jumped up to the wrist, desperate to pull it away as you felt yourself stagger backwards as the assailant dragged you away from the small stretch of light.

Kicking against shins and scratching at exposed skin, you tried to think of your friend from the VA. The one who’s name you never got but always sent you a sweet kind of smile when you’d bring in a plate of cookies once a month for the support group he led. He had offered to teach you self-defense a few times, said he teaches a course once every few weeks and it wouldn’t hurt, not for a girl living on her own in a big city. You had turned him down every time. Too busy, you’d tell him, but you’d try for the next one. You never did.

You felt the hand grasping at your waist bunch at the fabric of your dress and you screamed again, so loud it burned the back of your throat, and still it was stifled by the hand at your mouth. No one would hear you. No one would notice. Panic coursed through you and you readied yourself to throw an elbow back into the attacker’s ribs when you felt hot breath against your neck.

“It’ll be a hell of a lot worse if you fight back,” the deep, groggy voice of the man purred, his lips ghosting over your ear. You strained your neck to escape his touch, but found it was useless. The pungent smell of whiskey burned in your nose.

He started to drag you backwards, even as you flailed in his arms, unable to stop yourself despite his threat. It was too easy for him; the heels you already had a hard time walking in, long hair just waiting for his greedy fingers to wrap around, the edge of your dress bunching up higher along your thighs the more you pushed against him.

Once the darkness had encompassed you completely, the man slammed your back against the brick wall of the alley. A pulsing in the back of your head, double vision, and you nearly collapsed from the impact.

“I told you to stop fighting, bitch,” he sneered. He didn’t bother covering his face. Good, you thought. Dark, cold brown eyes stared back at you, clean cut hair, neatly shaven skin, a faded scar at the corner of his left eye; you were memorizing him, hoping you’d live long enough for it to matter.

A flash of light, reflected off the edge of a silver knife, as he chuckled menacingly to himself. He moved at an agonizingly slow pace as he brought it closer to your face. Slowly he released his hand from your mouth, only to replace the knife to your cheek. He cut a thin line. You winced and bit down hard on your lip, knowing exactly what would happen if you screamed again.

“Good girl,” he slurred, drawing the knife along your cheekbone, down your neck, to the top of your dress. Not enough to break skin, but enough to tell you he could if he wanted. “Now, a pretty thing like you has got to have some cash on her, am I right?”

You nodded frantically, trying to push your purse towards him. Take the whole thing, you screamed in your mind, too afraid to say it aloud. The man yanked it away, quickly rummaging through your belongings as you stood helpless but to watch. He grinned as you grabbed a hold of your wallet, tossing your bag to the ground several feet away. He opened the wallet searching for his prize.

His face fell as he pulled out a couple singles and a ten dollar bill. An aggravated groan echoed in the alley as he threw the wallet at you, tucking the few bills into his pocket.

“Useless!” he seethed, charging back towards you with his knife raised high, aiming. You closed your eyes, head turning away from what you’d only expect to be the last thing you ever saw.

Then suddenly, a brush of wind. Haphazard movement of feet dragging along the pavement. A few grunts and a yelp.

Unable to hold yourself up on trembling legs, you collapsed to the gravel, small rocks digging into your knees. Cautiously you dared to open your eyes only a sliver to find that the man was no longer in front of you, yanked back by the neck away from you until he stood at the other side of the narrow alleyway. Between the two of you was a second man, one who stood a foot taller than your assailant and kept his back to you. He wore a dark colored jacket, one that looked slightly familiar and hair that trailed down from behind his cap. His hands closed into fists as your attacker charged towards him.

The man didn’t seem phased as he easily tossed your attacker to the ground who let out a pained grunt as he skidded along the dirt. The man stalked towards him, your attacker started to frantically crawl against the pavement, attempting to get away.

“I wasn’t doing anything!” your attacker yelped as he covered his face with his hands and a fist swung down at his jaw. He turned to the side, spitting blood. “You’re a fucking psychopa-“

One last hit to his face and his body was limp. The man responsible grumbled under his breath, shaking his head as he reached for the baseball cap that had fallen away in the short-lived shuffle. The man stood back to his feet, cautiously glancing towards you.

A breath caught in your throat as he took a step closer to you, though he froze when you started to scramble away, adrenaline coursing too rapidly through your veins. The man lifted his hands in the air slowly, defensively, as a crouched down to your eye level, though he kept his distance.

“Are you hurt?” 

You blinked. The man gestured towards the cut on your cheek.

“Are you hurt, doll?” he asked again, a little more urgency this time, though his voice was rather soft. Kind. It surprised you as you heard it, like something so sweet shouldn’t come from a man built like marble.

You paused, trying to get a steady hold of your breathing. “N-no… I… um…” You were glancing around the alley hastily, eyes darting to the dumpster to your left, the open view of the street just a call away, the man lying bloody along the dirt. Shaking hands reached up to your cheek. You watched as the stranger clenched his jaw as you did so. You winced as you touched the open wound, pulling back to find blood dripping over your fingers. A dark, sticky red upon your skin.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

The breaths were coming in too fast, you couldn’t keep up. Your hands were growing numb, it was traveling up your arms and settling in your head. Dizzy. So dizzy. Tightness in your chest. Hands grasped desperately at the stones in the pavement, searching for something, anything to hold onto to bring you back from the all-consuming fog, but it gave you no release. If that man wasn’t going to kill you, this surely would. 

The muffled voice of the stranger came into focus as you felt a single hand on your shoulder. You flinched away instinctively, eyes wide, panicked, and the man pulled back instantly. Even with your vision tunneling you could see the concern on his features, piercing blue eyes studying you carefully. He set his hand on his chest.

“Breathe with me, okay?” he said slowly, though stern enough that it caught your attention through your haze. He pushed his hand out as his chest lifted, emphasized. He pressed against his chest as he exhaled. “Come on, doll. You gotta breathe.”

You nodded vigorously but try as you did, you couldn’t follow his breaths. He was moving too slow, too steady, and you were running a million miles a minute. Without thinking, you darted your hand out to his chest. He nearly threw himself back, thinking you were trying to push him away, but when your fingers took a tight hold of his Henley, he froze. You opened your palm, adjusting it on his chest until you could feel his heartbeat, feel the rise and fall of his breaths.

It was easier to follow this way, gave you something to hold onto, ground yourself.

“Good,” he whispered encouragingly, a smile tugging at his lips. His hand reached up and set delicately over yours, his eyes tracing every inch of your face to watch for objections. It was warm, callused, but welcomed. Your breathing had started to slow down, though the pulsing in your brain was deafening.

“You’re doing so well, doll.”

Could have been hours later for all you knew by the time you were breathing properly again. You let your hand fall away from the stranger and he exhaled a sigh of relief. He lifted his cap to brush back his long hair before he settled it back on his head. A warm smile pulled ever so slightly at his lips.

“It’s you,” you gasped, recognizing him as the man you had run into minutes earlier on the street. The stranger’s smile fell immediately and his eyes darted to the ground, mistaking your surprise for fear. He tucked his left hand quickly into his jacket pocket, though you squinted when you thought you saw a flicker of silver.

“S-sorry, I can… I can get someone else if you’d like,” he stuttered as he scratched the back of his head, glancing back towards the street where no one was walking past. He was nervous and that surprised you. This stranger who came to your rescue, beat a man unconscious in three blows, was flustered.

“N- no, it’s okay! I just, I saw you earlier,” you mumbled, feeling silly now. “You bumped into me.”

“Oh, right. ‘Course,” he nodded, looking seemingly relieve at your clarification. He brushed his hand over his jeans and stood slowly. He held out his hand for you to help you back up to your feet.

You studied it for a minute, gloved in black leather while his other hand by his side was exposed. He was patient, looking up towards the street to give you the time you needed to trust him, at least enough to get you out of this alley. Slowly, tentatively, you placed your hand in his and gripped. It was hard, harder than a hand should be. It didn’t give at all when you squeezed it, almost like it was – oh.

Once you were on your feet, he tucked his hand back into his pocket. “Do you have someone I can call for you?”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest as a gust of wind blew through the alley. He watched you curiously as a shiver raked up your spine. You glanced towards the street, nervously tucking a hair behind your ear. You hadn’t noticed he started to shimmy his jacket off.

“N-no, I just moved here a few months ago. Thought it would be good for me, you know? Move somewhere no one knew me. Did me well, huh?”

Warmth along your arms and the smell of aftershave alerted you to the jacket now draped over your shoulders. The man sent you a clenched smile, like he wasn’t quite sure if giving you his jacket was going to upset you or not. You gabbed at the edges of the jacket and wrapped it tighter around you, sending him an earnest smile in thanks. You were nearly drowning in it, but something about it was comforting, warm, like a blanket.

“What are you doing walking around at this hour, anyway?” you asked suddenly in an effort to turn his attention away from the pink in your cheeks. He clenched his jaw, looking away from you nervously and you swore at yourself for prying.

“Sleep ain’t always easy for me,” he said slowly, apprehensively, like he’d never said it to anyone else. “Helps sometimes to just walk around. It’s quieter out here than in my head. Peaceful,” he winced as he said it. “Well, usually it is.”

You nodded. A part of you wished that you could find solace walking in the empty streets of the city at such an hour. The stars were rather beautiful at this time, few lights to obstruct the view. And he was right – it was quiet, save for the soft bustling of bars closing up shop and the taxis. In these parts of the city, away from the tourists, there was a peaceful element to it. Unless, you were a woman walking by yourself.

“What about you?”

His voice brought your attention back to startling blue eyes.

“Oh, well, some girls from work dragged me to a bar I didn’t really want to go to and took my license so I couldn’t leave,” you half-grumbled. He raised an eyebrow. “They were trying to be nice; help get me out of my apartment, meet new people or whatever. I’m just not good at that stuff.”

“I know what you mean,” he sighed, his lips curving ever so subtly. It caused your stomach to flutter. You glanced down at the hand that had been tucked into his jacket pocket, the one that was now sitting by his hip, covered in a black glove.

“You’re James Barnes, aren’t you?” you blurted out before you lost the courage.

He froze, blue eyes flashing with panic. You could tell he was studying you, searching for signs of fear or disgust he’d never find. You only watched him with curiosity, gratefulness. You had never believed what they wrote in the papers anyway. He licked at his lips, nodding slowly.

“Bucky is fine.”

“I’m Y/n,” you offered back.

He repeated your name and you liked how sweetly it fell from his lips. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you but given the circumstances…”

“I’d still say it,” you countered sincerely, surprised when a smile pulled at your cheeks. “I’d very much like to say it’s nice to meet you. You might’ve saved my life, Sergeant Barnes. I’m very happy I met you tonight.”

“Bucky,” he reminded, his eyes falling to the ground like the praise sat uneasy on his shoulders. His embarrassment was almost endearing. He swallowed, clearly searching to change the subject. “I could call, uh, the cops if you’d like? Think local PD might be bothered if I tried to put this under SHEILD jurisdiction. Stark would have my head if I upset the NYPD again…”

You knew he wasn’t trying to be funny, but it made you laugh. He narrowed his eyes on you, surprised to find you chuckling into your palm, like you were trying to hide it. You weren’t sure how it was possible, but you had almost forgotten about the man lying in the dirt just a few paces from you. Bucky Barnes, who was feared by so many in this town, had secured your trust in minutes and made you feel safer than you had in years, even with your knife wielding assailant just a few feet away.

“Yeah, I think that would be-“

The scatter of pebbles along the ground grabbed your attention as your attacker scrambled to his feet. His shot a nervous glance over his shoulder at Bucky, blood dripping from his mouth, as he took off sprinting in the other direction. Bucky was already on red alert, the kind features on his face quickly taken over by the determination of man you’d never want to cross. He was readying to spring after him when you dared to reach out to grab his arm.

“Please don’t,” you begged, your voice coming out in a broken whisper. You cursed under your breath, hating how weak you sounded, how afraid. God, how quickly it changed in seconds with the possibility of him leaving you alone again. Confused eyes flashed at you, furrowed brow, before he glanced back towards the end of the alley were the man had disappeared.

You felt your breaths shaking as they came. “Please, don’t leave me.”

The tension left Bucky’s shoulders instantly, his body seemingly melting of the hardened exterior, the mask he wore when he needed to.

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’m here, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded quickly, repeating his words again in your mind to convince yourself he was sincere. Another glance up to the blue of his eyes was all you needed to let the doubt fade away.

“We should probably get that cut cleaned up. We have a doc in the tower who’s real good about not leavin’ scars, if you’d like. I can call ahead so she’s ready for us and we could file the police report from there,” Bucky offered, rambling a bit as he shrugged his shoulders. He must have noticed the way you were looking at him, a mix of surprise and awe that he surely mistook as something more apprehensive. “Unless you want to go to the hospital? Or you wanna go home? Whatever you want to do, doll. I’ll do whatever you want.”

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, clenching his jaw to keep himself from talking. You thought of the man in the papers, who’s picture was plastered across every tv screen for the past year, who’s judgement was constantly questioned by the media, who had to prove again and again that he was on the side of the heroes, that he’d been trying to absolve the crimes he was forced to commit.

You wondered how many people were privileged enough to see this side of him? To see him under the mask he wore in battle. He was kinder than he let the public believe.

“My landlord’s been putting off fixing the locks on my apartment for a few days,” you said slowly, eyeing his reaction. “The tower sounds nice. Probably feel safer there than anywhere else, being around a superhero and all.”

Bucky nodded, brushing your words off. “’Course. Can’t be a safer place in New York if you’re in the same building as Captain America and Iron Man.”

“I was talking about you, actually.”

He paused, eyes narrowing in surprise. You couldn’t help but smile at his disbelief. Hadn’t he just saved you from a mugger with a knife just moments ago? What did he consider that to be if not heroic?

“You are a hero, Bucky,” you said softly. “If nothing else, you’re my hero.”

Bucky let out a short breath, a glimpse of a smile on the end of it. He looked over at you, extending his right arm for you to grab. You took it graciously, wrapping your arm around the crook of his elbow as he tucked his hand into his pocket. He balanced you as you took a step forward on unsteady heels. He gestured towards the street, and you nodded.

You walked alongside him back into the light.


End file.
